


The Small Things

by julliangray



Category: The A-Team (TV)
Genre: Drunkenness, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Language, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:35:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25253197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julliangray/pseuds/julliangray
Summary: Love is such a strange thing.  It can be made with grand gestures and huge declarations, or there the simple things that no one ever sees or notices.
Relationships: Templeton "Faceman" Peck/John "Hannibal" Smith
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	The Small Things

Thank you, HannibalFan'52, for your help!!

****  
"How many, kid?"

"Thirteen," Face manages to get out before he retches again.

"Six more than you should have had, huh?" It's a statement, not a question.

Face starts to nod, but that is a bad idea as his stomach decides that the old saying 'Better out than in' is one it should live by, and he manages to bring up another eight ounces of Budweiser.

"You need to go to the hospital?"

"No, I'm good," Face gets out before another few ounces make an appearance.

"Yeah, you look it." Hannibal sighs as he moves further into the little bathroom. Turning to the sink, he wets down two washcloths and wrings them out before stepping over the young man, who is once again worshiping the porcelain throne.

"What was her name?"

"What makes you think it was a girl?" Face asks, leaning back, but not letting go of the toilet lid.

"I've known you for thirteen years now, kid." Hannibal shakes his head as he lays one cloth on the back of his lieutenant's neck while he uses the other to wipe the younger man's face, then mouth."So, what's her name?"

"It's not a girl!" Face yelled, and the look in his eyes might have made his voice sound imposing if it hadn't been for the moan that slipped out afterward, and he was back to vomiting.

Hannibal shook his head as he sat down on the side of the bathtub and waited. Face had gone through so many women over the last few months that he wasn't sure he could name them all. There had been Sue, Brandi, Melissa, Amy, Laurie, Emily, Beth, Diana, Paula, Gloria, Anita, Nikkei, and who could forget Felicia? And if he thought about it, Hannibal was pretty sure that he could name off another thirteen quickly enough.

"Okay, kid, if it isn't a girl, then what is it?" Hannibal asked as Face came up for air again.

"You wouldn't understand." Face started to wipe the back of his hand with his mouth, but Hannibal stopped him and used the washcloth.

"You're right; I won't if you don't tell me."

"Please, Hannibal, just drop it. Chalk this up to me screwing up again, and drop it," Face begged as he leaned too far back on his knees, causing him to fall flat on his ass.

The two sat there staring at each other for some time before Hannibal just shook his head yet again.

"Are you done trying to puke your guts out?"

"Think so," Face answered softly, hoping that his rebellious stomach wouldn't hear him.

"Think you can manage a shower by yourself?"

"Yeah," Face croaked out as he allowed Hannibal to pull him to his feet.

Hannibal started the water running for Face's shower while the younger man attempted to get himself undressed. After watching Face struggle with the buttons on his jeans, Hannibal stepped up and began to undo them for him.

"Take some advice, kid: button-fly jeans are not for drinking in."

"I look good in them," Face huffed as he focused on the hands that were at his crotch, amazed how they could open the stubborn little buttons so easily when he couldn't.

"Yes, you do," Hannibal chuckled as he popped the last button. "But you play hell with them when you have to take a piss." With the final button undone, Hannibal grabbed Face's t-shirt and pulled it over his head. "And they're even worse when you're drunk. Now get in the shower, and I'll see you in a few minutes."

"Yes, sir," Face muttered as Hannibal moved past him.

When Face stepped out of the shower thirteen minutes later, he found a pair of sweatpants, a clean t-shirt, and his bathrobe waiting for him, his soiled clothes removed. It took him a little longer than usual to get dressed since the floor had a bad habit of tilting every now and again, but he managed. As he exited the bathroom, he turned to head down the hall towards his bedroom when he heard Hannibal come up behind him.

"Not a chance, kid. This way." Hannibal's hand landed on his shoulder, turning him back towards the living room.

"Hannibal, I just want to go to bed,"

"And you will," Hannibal agreed as he kept Face moving forward. "After you eat something."

Just the thought of food made Face's stomach start to turn, and he was about to protest when the hand on his shoulder tightened.

"Don't start with me," Hannibal warned as they entered the living room, and he directed Face towards the couch.

Reluctantly, Face sat down, accepted the glass of ginger ale and two Tylenol. After swallowing the pills, Face tried to hand the glass back, but Hannibal only shook his head as he forced a peanut butter sandwich into his now empty hand.

"There is no way…" Face started, but Hannibal just shook his head again.

"Eat!" It was a command, not a request. Seeing the miserable look in the younger man's eyes, Hannibal explained. "The ginger in the soda will help settle your stomach; the bread will hopefully soak up some of the beer in your gut, and the protein should keep you from feeling too bad in the morning."

"Sounds like you've had experience in this matter."

"On more than one occasion." Hannibal smiled as he watched Face take a small bite.

The two sat quietly while Face did his best to eat, but as soon as he finished, Hannibal went back to his previous line of questioning.

"Now that your head isn't in the toilet bowl, would you please tell me what is going on that you feel the need to try and give yourself alcohol poisoning?"

"I told you, I screwed up." Face glared at him for just a moment, and then looked away. "I fell in love with someone, and they could never love me back, okay? So can we please just drop this?"

"Ah, Face," Hannibal sighed. So it was just as he figured. Some girl had caught the kid's eye and had dumped him, leaving him heartbroken again. "You'll find someone else and get over it. You always do."

"No." Face shook his head as he looked at Hannibal and gave him a tight smile. "Not this person."

As Hannibal looked at the younger man, he could see the misery and pain in the blue-green eyes and desperately wished he could do something to take that away.  
"I'm sorry, kid."

"So am I." Face offered another smile before he stood up. When he started to sway just a little, Hannibal was there to steady him. "Good night, Hannibal."

"Good night, Face." Hannibal gave Face's neck a gentle squeeze as he moved so the blonde could get by him.

As Hannibal watched Face stagger down the hall, he couldn't help but wonder how long the kid had been pining after this woman of his dreams, and as Face was just about to disappear into his room, Hannibal called out to him.

"Hey, kid, when did you meet this person?"

Face looked at him and again offered him a strained smile.

"Thirteen years ago today," he said before dropping his head and walking into his room, closing the door behind him.

As Hannibal watched his lieutenant walk into his room, he couldn't help but wonder who on earth he could be talking about. Picking up the empty glass and plate, he headed towards the kitchen and considered the information he had just received. There had been Leslie, of course, but Hannibal knew for a fact that the kid had gotten over her a long time ago. There had been other women that they had met over the years, but Face had told him thirteen years ago.

No. Not just thirteen years ago, but thirteen years ago today. Where in the hell…?

Suddenly it hit Hannibal, and he stopped dead in his tracks. Thirteen years ago today, he was standing in the Long Binh military stockade, looking at one arrogant, smart-assed, conniving, self-centered, beat-all-to-hell, scared-out-of-his-fucking mind Lieutenant Templeton Peck. Hell, Hannibal couldn't blame the kid for being scared. LBJ, as it was known to most, was not a place that anyone wanted to be. In '68, there had been a riot that lasted ten days, which left sixty-three MP's and fifty-two inmates injured, along with one inmate dead. Tensions in the place were always high, and the stockade was full of violence. Judging by the bruised and battered face of the young man standing in front of him, things hadn't changed at all.

The conversation between the two of them had been brief, with the kid trying his best to bullshit him and come across as some tough guy who didn't care what happened to him. But in the end, he had crumbled and told him the truth. Hannibal could tell when he walked out of that cell that the lieutenant thought that he would never see him again, but that hadn't been the case. He'd returned six hours later with the kid's transfer papers and the release, which put him in Hannibal's custody. He had gotten the two of them a hotel room that night in Ho Chi Minh City, where the boy could get at least one night's decent sleep before they headed off into the war zone.

As long as he lived, he would never forget how guarded Peck had been those first few hours in that room as if he was just waiting for something terrible to happen. He had tried to take them out to dinner, but the lieutenant didn't want to go, saying that he looked too bad to sit in a restaurant, so Hannibal had ordered room service for them. As the night wore on, the younger man seemed to relax a little, and by the time they were both ready to settle down in their separate beds, Hannibal was pretty sure he'd seen a real smile on the kid's face instead of the fake ones he'd been flashing all day. Later that night, he had been awakened by a scream that he would never forget as long as he lived. Hannibal had turned on the light to see Peck sitting straight up in bed, gasping for air, his eyes wide with fear. He had tried his best to get the kid to talk to him, but he just clammed up, and after the boy had drunk half the water he'd given to him, the lieutenant just rolled over to face the wall. With nothing else to say or do, he'd pulled the blanket up around the kid's shoulders and gone back to his bed.

Hannibal set the dishes down on the counter and looked back down the hallway towards the bedrooms.

"Thirteen years ago today," he repeated Face's words. "We've both been complete and utter fools for thirteen years today."

Being a man of action, Hannibal left the kitchen and headed down the hall. In a matter of seconds, he was in front of Face's bedroom door. He knocked once before opening it and walking in. There was Face, still awake, sitting on the bed with a photo of the team from Vietnam in his hands.  
"Leave me alone, please. I've made a big enough fool out of myself this evening," Face stated, not even bothering to look at him.

Hannibal looked at Face's hand, and he noticed that one of his thumbs was resting on his chest in the photo.

"Face,"

"Please, Hannibal, don't…" Face started, and Hannibal could hear the pain in his voice. "I screwed up. I should never have said anything. Just please forget what I said."

"Face," he tried again

"I don't want to lose what I have. Please just…just forget...it…"

As the last words came out of the younger man's mouth, it hit Hannibal that the kid - no, his boy - was crying. Moving across the room, Hannibal took the photo out of Peck's hands and placed it on the nightstand before kneeling so that the two of them were at eye level. When Face dropped his head lower, he put his own hands on either side of Face's head and forced it up so that they were looking eye to eye.

"I don't want to forget," he stated softly as he ran his thumbs over the tearstained cheeks. "I don't ever want to forget." With that said, he rose slightly and kissed Face tenderly on the lips. Face was hesitant for just a moment, but then he returned the kiss with all of his heart.

When they finally broke apart, Hannibal leaned back so that he could see the younger man's face better.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"I didn't want to lose what I had," Face offered a faint smile. "Besides, what would a man's man like you want with me?"

"What's not to want?" Hannibal moved one of his hands so that he could run his fingers through Face's hair, brushing it back out of his eyes. Before Face had a chance to protest, Hannibal pulled him down into his arms, holding him tight to his chest. "I love you, kid. I have since the first time I laid eyes on you."

Face wrapped his arms around Hannibal and laid his head down on the older man's broad shoulder. He had wanted this for so, so long.

"I love you, John,"

The two stayed like this for some time before Hannibal came up with a better plan. Keeping his arms wrapped around Face, he pulled them both up into a standing position so that he could maneuver them over to Face's bed. Reluctantly, Hannibal let go of Face as he laid him down, but immediately he moved over to the other side. As soon as he was on the bed, he pulled Face back into his arms. After making sure the younger man was comfortably settled, he turned off the bedside light.

"Hannibal?"

"What?"

"Tell me this isn't some fucked-up drunken dream I'm having."

"It's real, kid." Hannibal brushed the hair off Face's forehead so he could lay a gentle kiss there.

"How long have you thought that you might love me?"

Hannibal couldn't help but smile as he kissed Face again.

"I HAVE loved you for thirteen years - today."

End


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